Intrinsically So
by hinahinaxxchoco
Summary: Asking how they had gotten there would be idiotic. No, they did not ask. Instead, they opted for the path less taken, and found comfort in the memories of their past lives - and each other. After all, what duo proved more dynamic than a pair of headstrong, beautiful kings?
1. Of Kings and Knights

_**bon iver, skinny love**_

_come on skinny love_

_just last the year _

_pour a little soul_

_we were never here_

"Do you ever think about it?"

It was a quiet evening that night. The two laid side by side in a tangle of limbs and he traced the edges of her soft jawline as they listened to each other breathe. Saber spoke lowly, softly, as if she was afraid that any kind of loud noise or abrupt movement would slice through the atmosphere and bring the entire world crashing down.

"About what, love?" His eyes were a calm red, turning the color of a bright fruit punch when Saber spoke as he found himself amused at how often she could startle him. She'd never been the soft spoken type. But she looked so tired now. So fragile. It was so unlike the radiant butterfly on the battlefield that he'd seen take down her enemies with a hard resolve and fearless brilliance. Saber would always be brilliant, he mused, but at the time she seemed more like a flickering candle light struggling to survive in a cold empty room than the powerful ray of light whose strength only he could match.

He resisted the urge to reach out and enclose her in his warmth. Instead, he sat back and focused on her eyes, listening intently. What she needed now wasn't pity and she knew that and thanked him silently. No matter how much she fell, how hard she cried or how lost she was, he would never pity her.

"About the war. About our past lives." Saber looked up, searching his eyes for all the lives lost, for a way to right wrongs and bring back glory to her people. She found a comforting nothing.

"Sometimes," he exhaled. "Had there not been a war, I may have remained a king." He looked away, remembering what had happened to him and how he ended up in this sickly vulnerable human skin.

"And yet, you are still the king I've always known, " she laughed, a hollow and warm sound.

"How could one survive on such arrogance and beauty if not be a king?" he teased, enjoying the way her hair, usually pulled back in an elaborate bun, pooled around her shoulders in streams of gold. There was a gentle moment of silence before she sat up suddenly, as if in distant memory, and spoke again.

"Kiritsugu," she murmured softly. "I'll never be able to understand what happened in those last moments with you and him andall the blood that poured out of the grail. Irisviel's blood. I-I_ failed_ her," she choked.

"Nonsense, Saber. It was unavoidable. As I remember, you put up quite a fight against me and had your master not intervened with his absurd request, I may have been bested. You did well," he replied soothingly as he looked back to that day and saw her fighting form running towards him again with raging fury, every bit as indignant and beautiful as he saw her now.

"You did well."

* * *

Drabble series because I love these two too much to let them go.

Stating the obvious, but I don't own Fate/Zero and I thank the heavens every day that typemoon/ufotable do.

(ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ Can that UBW stay/night version come any sooner?

ufotable fans ya feel me?


	2. A Queen in the Making

_arcade fire, suburbs_

_So can you understand?_  
_Why I want a daughter while I'm still young_  
_I wanna hold her hand_  
_And show her some beauty_  
_Before all this damage is done_

Her blood red eyes blazing with fury, her fists trembling violently at her sides, her expression one of misdirected hatred, she glared up at him and in the most terrifying voice imaginable for a dainty six year old, shouted, "GIVE THAT BACK YOU JERK!"

"W-what, it was just a joke! You can have your lame doll back," the confused boy stuttered. He had been trying to get her attention for weeks now. But of course, he was still a kid, and as showing affections for others went, he could use some work. He tossed her the ragged toy, but not before catching a glimpse of the look of relief that spread across her face in the form a beautiful, wide smile. She gave the poor toy a death squeeze before turning back to glare at him again, her face a nasty scowl.

A few feet in the distance stood Saber, a sardonic smile playing on her lips as she congratulated herself for having raised such a feisty young spirit. "You should keep a close watch on her," she titled her head slightly back at her husband. "God knows what she'll do to that poor boy."

"Whatever it is, he certainly deserves it." He chuckled and leaned back on the tree, looking every bit the easygoing, arrogant and beautiful male model girls and guys alike swooned over. Even though years had passed, time was never cruel to him and instead enhanced his features - like a well aged red wine. Slowly, he stalked over to her until her back was pressed to his chest, fingers smoothing over her waist.

"Besides, we've got more _pressing_ matters to attend to...," he smirked, gesturing to the patch of woods a few yards away, perfectly secluded from the rest of the park.

Saber scoffed when she saw his teasing gaze and rejected his invitation with a sway of her hand. "Please. How do you think we got her in the first place? I'm in no mood to attend to your whimsical and -"

"MOOOOOOOM!" The young boy had fallen on his clumsy rear and was flailing about like a beached whale.

Next to him stood Saber's daughter, arms crossed in a fury with an indignant expression. "He started it! He said I smelled and that my hair looked like an old man's hair!"

The boy's mother calmly walked over to the mess and pulled her son up with a swift tug of his hand, all the while keeping a firm and reasonable tone. "What happened here?" As she was inspecting her son's injuries, Saber walked over cautiously, Gilgamesh following suit.

"M-mom, she pushed me. I didn't - didn't, do, anythingg wrong!"

Saber sighed, closed her eyes, and with great restraint opened them without any sign of anger. She stared passively at her daughter.

"Sylvia, apologize to him."

"Why should I?! I don't even know his name!" her daughter remarked angrily. She pouted and turned her body with a jerking motion, crossing her arms and glaring at the ground. The grass seemed to wilt slightly.

Gilgamesh gave his wife a knowing look, knelt next to Sylvia and began plucking grass out of her hair. "Why don't you start with that, sweetheart? Ask him what his name is." He looked up and gave the boy's mother a charming smile that didn't go unnoticed, as she blushed visibly but maintained her stoic expression.

Sylvia huffed and turned around reluctantly to face the sniveling young boy. "What are you?"

"Sylvia that's not -" Saber started, her tone creeping on restrained anger. "I've got this," Gilgamesh soothed. Saber remained silent but narrowed her eyes.

"Darling, do you remember what I taught you? 'There are three things in the world that deserve no mercy: hypocrisy, fraud, -"

"'And tyranny.' I know, Gilgamesh."

He smiled. "And is this boy a hypocrite? Is he a fraud? Has he committed tyranny?"

"...no. He's just a boy." Sylvia admitted, feeling defeated.

Although Gilgamesh knew better than believing kids aren't capable of such acts, he decided to leave that lesson for another, more fitting day. Instead, he looked into her eyes and whispered, "Then_ forgive_ him. He is deserving of your mercy. And a king is always merciful when he can be."

"Yes, Gilgamesh. I understand," she looked away. "Hi...I'm Sylvia." She shyly held her plump hand to him.

"Go on dear, take her hand," his mother sighed. The young boy looked at his mother, then back at Sylvia and tentatively reached for her hand. Just as they were about to make contact, she pulled him to her and gave him a bear hug.

"I'm sorry," she breathed quietly into his black hair.

"I'm Ito," he responded. "Ito Emiya."

Content with his work, Gilgamesh stepped back and addressed his lover. "Rather skillful of me, wasn't that?" he grinned.

"You always were the more convincing one," Saber conceded, tilting her head to look at him.

"Perhaps with my words. But you are the real swindler here, dear wife." He smirked, taking her into his arms.

Saber hummed, her tone playful. "And why is that?"

"You captured me with your spirit, entranced me with your soul and reeled me in, hook, line and sinker...," he trailed off, gazing into her eyes, suddenly remembering that night at the King's Banquet when his affections for her became more than just sadistic interest. It was then that he realized. Her sword as pure as lightning from the heavens above. Her angry tears. Her earned smiles and her rare laughter. Her beautiful fighting stance a force to be admired and feared. Her scorn a fury not even hell could have dealt with. Her unbroken and fragile soul - every single part of her a mesmerizing and intoxicating truth. It was then that he knew.

"I fear our daughter has taken to your unconventional charm. I'm not too pleased with the idea of her marrying such a sniveling brat."

She smiled knowingly and joked, "It could be worse. The love of her life could pierce her through the leg with his expensive swords."

"Is that before or after she manages to throw him off his feet and ruin his ego for all eternity?" he retorted, amusement playing on his words.

Saber paused thoughtfully. "Definitely before. I don't think there's a better formula for love."

* * *

Ah yes. Frederick William Robertson is bae. I'm hoping to use Oscar Wilde sometime soon because he is one of my favorite people ever.


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